


Kids In The Dark

by despitetheodds, winn (despitetheodds)



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: (or at least it's attempted), Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, High School AU, Panic Attacks, Pining, Slow Burn, okay but skating!bonnie? yes??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:40:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despitetheodds/pseuds/despitetheodds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/despitetheodds/pseuds/winn
Summary: "She was leaving all of it behind.Well, only if by saying “all of it” you meant an abusive gaslighting father and a brother who flirted with anything that could breathe."Marceline moves to a new town, leaving behind her old school, her family, and her only friend. Unfortunately for her, though, the bad memories insist on following.
Relationships: Princess Bubblegum/Marceline
Comments: 25
Kudos: 79





	1. wasting away

**Author's Note:**

> after reading wonderful fics by abadeerly and laurenjauregui and reliquiaen, i've decided to try my hand at writing my own. this is my first time attempting a longer multichapter fic, and i will most definitely not have a consistent upload schedule. i'm in school and also learning two new instruments, so that comes first :)
> 
> each chapter's title will be a song that i think matches the vibe of the chapter.
> 
> wasting away - tonight alive

**Tuesday, August 20 th**

She was leaving all of it behind.

Well, only if by saying “all of it” you meant an abusive gaslighting father and a brother who flirted with anything that could breathe. Her old school in Chicago she didn’t care for too much and it would not be missed in the slightest, although it would definitely suck to learn the social circles at her new school. _Not like I had many friends there, anyways. And it’s not like I wanted any in the first place. Pricks…_

Marceline was moving in with her uncle, Simon, four hours south from Chicago to a little town called Clearwater, right next to the Illinois River and a short drive to the Mississippi. It was daunting to adjust to such a small town after living in the busy city where people are less likely to know who you are. Compared to the windy city with its millions of citizens, ten thousand people living in Clearwater seemed like an impossibly low amount. Not to mention that the town was most definitely not as liberal as her city (even though it would definitely be more liberal than her old conservative catholic school). Marceline rested her head on the car window and closed her eyes. _I really hope they don’t find out about my sexuality. There’s probably only like two other queer people at this high school, and they’re probably not even out yet. Stupid small southern town. At least Simon teaches there, I won’t be completely alone._

After another hour of driving (or in Marceline’s case, listening to loud music), they finally arrived at Simon’s house on the outskirts of town, gravel crunching under the small car’s tires. He lived on a small street in a modest one-story home, corn fields just visible behind the house. It amazed Marceline how much of Illinois was actually just cornfields. Simon stretched both of his arms out in front of him, joints loudly popping at his elbows and making Marceline cringe. Her brother had often cracked his knuckles to annoy Marceline; she had always been averse of doing it herself, terrified of developing arthritis and not being able to play guitar.

“Well, here we are!” Simon said, gesturing broadly at his house. “I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to, but it’s nice here. It’s a quiet neighborhood, you can skate in the street without too many cars bothering you.”

Marceline looked around at the quaint houses lined up on the street while taking out her earbuds. “It’s not bad, I guess,” Marceline listlessly replied. She glanced at the gravel scattered on the poorly kept road. _I’ll skip the broken arm, thank you very much._

Simon gave her an encouraging smile. She didn’t really feel great about the move, but at least Simon seemed upbeat. “Grab your stuff out of the trunk, okay? You’ll want to unpack most of your stuff tonight while you still have time. School starts tomorrow.”

She bobbed her head idly. “Yeah yeah, I know. I’ll be fine, Simon.”

Simon ruffled her hair affectionately. “I know, kiddo. You’re tough. Get started on those boxes, the whole basement is yours.”

Marceline hopped out of the passenger seat and into the bright sun of the summer day. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun beat down on her shoulders with its radiant warmth. Marceline hated it. Her wardrobe consisted of primarily black items, and she could feel herself starting to sweat under the sun’s burning gaze. What was she supposed to do, avoid it like some sort of vampire? _That doesn’t sound too bad, actually._ She walked to the trunk, cursing under her breath the whole way, and started unpacking like Simon had suggested.

…

Marceline flopped down on her newly-unpacked bedsheets and groaned at no one in particular, a scowl marring her pale face. Sure, the move had been fairly painless, but she was not looking forward to school the next day. At least at her old school, people had known to stay away from her, just as she stayed away from them. Well, except Keila, but she was the sole exception. Marceline sighed dejectedly into the air again at the thought of her friend back in Chicago. _Fuck! How am I gonna survive without Keila? Now I don’t have a guitarist_ or _a best friend. Fuck._

She punched the bed and sat up, fishing her headphones out of her pocket to untangle the knot they had become. Plugging them into her phone, Marceline opened Spotify and shuffled All Time Low, the only band she had actually bothered following on Spotify. Maybe this school wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Maybe she could give off enough “fuck you” vibes, and everyone would avoid her like the plague. _A girl can dream, right?_ Marceline put on her pajamas straight out of her suitcase, picked up her teddy bear Hambo by his gently worn arm, and got into bed. She was tired of unpacking, even if having the entire basement to herself was pretty cool. Simon had even been thoughtful enough to give her a minifridge and small couch in the other room of the basement, as well as a TV and some DVD’s. It was certainly bigger than her old digs back in Chicago. Yawning and stretching, Marceline curled up on her side and closed her eyes, the fatigue setting in and winning over. She’d have to deal with her anxiety for the school day tomorrow.

…

**Wednesday, August 21 st**

“Marceline, time to get up.” A cold hand shook her shoulder. Simon was standing next to her bed, tapping his foot impatiently. The sun wasn’t even shining through her window yet, so it must be early.

She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?” Marceline replied groggily, her voice scratching in her throat. She was not a morning person. At all.

Simon quickly glanced at his watch, his hair a mess, looking rushed in his haste to wake her up. “Quarter after six.”

Marceline rolled her eyes. “In normal people words?”

Simon sighed. “Those _are_ normal people words. It’s six fifteen, and we’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re fucking insane.” Marceline sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, still not fully aware of her surroundings or even sure she wanted to be. Staying up late and sleeping in late was one of her favorite hobbies, and she wasn’t exactly known for arriving to school on time.

“Language, please,” Simon frowned at her, but not unkindly. “We have to get to Clearwater High early so I can prepare for the first day of school. Once your father sends down your motorcycle you won’t have to drive with me.”

“Yeah right, if he even remembers.” Marceline scowled in irritation. “He always hated my bike.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Simon said reassuringly. “I’ll toast you a bagel, okay?”

Marceline blearily nodded, and Simon gave her a quick smile before heading back upstairs. _How am I supposed to get ready in fifteen minutes? I’ve gotta look as intimidating as possible so those losers know to leave me alone._ After taking a quick five-minute shower (which was a chore with waist-length hair), she decided on some black ripped jeans paired with a tight grey shirt underneath her favorite leather jacket. She pulled on her platform Doc Martens, the leather soft and looking well cared for despite its age, and attached a couple chains on her beltloops. Marceline pondered her outfit in the mirror. _Good, but… not quite there._ Drawing on quick winged eyeliner, putting black in her waterline, and adding mascara, she decided she looked decent enough. Plus, judging by Simon’s calls for her, she had run out of time and had to be done either way.

Marceline took the steps two at a time and unenthusiastically walked into the kitchen. Simon was already done eating and handed her the aforementioned bagel.

Simon clapped his hands together in what Marceline assumed was a poor attempt to hype her up for the school day. “Alright! Ready for your very exciting first day of school?”

Marceline shrugged. “We’ll see when we get there.”

Simon opened the front door and ushered her outside. “I guess we will,” he replied.


	2. dark necessities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dark necessities - red hot chili peppers

**Wednesday, August 21 st**

Simon unlocked the door of his classroom, which coincidentally happened to be Marceline’s first class: chemistry. Not one that Marceline particularly cared about. Actually, she could care less about most of her classes except for music, and for good reason. Music came naturally to Marceline, but math and science? Screw that shit. _It’s not like I need to be great at math when I’m going to college for music._

Marceline was just getting herself settled at the back of the classroom when another person walked into the room. Her hair was dyed a pastel pink, she was fairly short compared to Marceline (which wasn’t hard to do), and annoyingly, she was very cute. _Great._ Both Simon and herself looked up in surprise, but Simon smiled in recognition while Marceline’s face settled on indifference. “Bonnibel, you’re here early. Have a good summer break?”

The girl, who was apparently named Bonnibel, gave Marceline a curious glance before she beamed back at Simon. “Yes, I did! I researched some interesting theories while studying over the summer, it was fascinating.”

Marceline scoffed. Research, voluntarily? On her own time? This girl was the biggest nerd she had ever seen. Not wanting to be dragged into a science-filled conversation, Marceline plugged in her earbuds and looked through her Spotify. Before she could decide on a playlist, however, Bonnibel sat next to her. _So much for looking intimidating…_

Bonnibel smiled kindly at Marceline, her smile lighting up the whole room. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You’re new?”

Marceline glared at her, dampening the glow of Bonnibel’s smile, but the feeling was purely external. Honestly, Marceline was more than a little curious about the nerd. Not that she would let that show, though. “Yes.” She went back to playlist hunting, hoping to be left alone.

“This is Marceline, she’s my niece. She will be attending Clearwater High this year,” Simon said, not very helpfully, from his desk at the front of the classroom.

“It’s nice to meet you, Marceline! My name’s Bonnibel.” She stuck out her hand, obviously hoping for a friendly handshake, but Marceline simply gave it a sidelong glance and went back to her phone. _God, I hate touching people I’m not cool with. Yuck._

Simon reprimanded her disapprovingly from across the room. “Marcy, be nice.”

Marceline let out a loud exaggerated sigh and shook Bonnibel’s hand. If the girl being cute wasn’t annoying enough, her hands happened to be incredibly soft. This cute girl Bonnibel who was also an insufferable geek had soft hands that would probably be exceptionally nice to hold. _No, Marceline. Don’t go down that path with her. She is one hundred percent straight. Plus, she’s a giant brainiac._

She couldn’t help liking Bonnibel the tiniest bit, though.

By now, a few more students had wandered in the classroom and had claimed their seats around the room; it looked like she was going to be stuck with Bonnibel sitting to her left. At least Marceline had chosen a corner seat; there was no fear of any other surprise visitors on her other side. _I don’t know if this girl is going to leave me alone, though. I’m not entirely sure I want her to._

She finally decided on a playlist, eloquently named “punk rock,” and put it on shuffle. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes as So Long Soldier blasted through her earbuds. Bonnibel gave her a few more curious glances, but Marceline kept her eyes closed until Simon started class and was oblivious to it all.

…

“In regards to the first chapter, we’re going to be doing a partner project to kick off the school year. Each group will be presenting a topic from chapter one and teaching it to the class. I will be allowing you to pick partners, but please pick someone you’re already sitting by if you can.” Simon tapped his papers on his podium. “Alright, that’s the boring part. Go pick a partner.”

Almost everyone in the class scrambled to pair up with their friends. Everyone except Marceline, who simply sat in silence. _Really, Simon? A partner project on the first day of school? You have to be kidding me._ She felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey Marceline, you want to partner up for this project?” Bonnibel peered over at her, still not getting the message from earlier. Although, as Marceline looked around the room, everyone had already chosen partners and were opening their laptops. Bonnibel was unfortunately the only option.

Marceline turned to her with crossed arms. “Guess I don’t have a choice, do I, princess?”

Bonnibel looked at Marceline with narrowed eyes, and a scarily determined expression settled on her face. “I literally _just_ met you today. Why do you hate me so much?”

The question took Marceline off guard. “I don’t- I don’t hate you, I just don’t know you.”

This time, it was Bonnibel’s turn to cross her arms. “You’re not going to know anyone in this school if you keep treating people like that. Surely your mother taught you better?”

Marceline stiffened visibly at that. _My mother is dead, you fucking…_ “Let’s just get this project over with.”

“Oh. Did I… Are you okay? I’m sorry,” Bonnibel hurriedly apologized, dropping her stern gaze for one that was a bit softer.

“I’m peachy, princess.” Marceline flipped over their textbook to the correct page and abruptly changed the subject. There was no reason to get into her trauma on the first day of school to a complete stranger. “You seem like one of those nerds who’s obsessed with school, right?”

Bonnibel’s eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance, as if this was a commonly asked question. “Obsessed is a strong word. I’m just planning ahead.”

“Well, you’re gonna be doing most of this then, because I don’t understand a lick of chemistry.” Marceline leaned back so her chair was on two legs, teetering rather unsafely with just her knees on the desk to keep herself from falling, something she had commonly done at home to piss off her father.

“It’s a partner project, we’ll be sharing the work equally. I guess I can gather relevant info while you prepare the presentation.” Bonnibel grabbed Marceline’s chair and forced all the legs back down to the ground. “And stop doing that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Marceline snapped. Despite her harsh tone, she kept all chair legs on the ground and pulled out her laptop to start designing their presentation. The pair worked in mutually uneasy silence until the bell rang.

Tentatively tapping her shoulder, Bonnibel asked, “What’s your next class?”

“Why do you care?” Marceline responded while taking a quick glance at her schedule. “Algebra.” She tried her best to sound irritated, but it was obvious that Bonnibel was oblivious to her sharp tongue, and Marceline was starting to lose her edge. _Keila_ did _always say I have a mushy center. That sounds weird, in hindsight._

Bonnibel leaned over her to view the schedule, much to Marceline’s combined disdain and delight. “I’ve got the same thing. I’ll show you the way?”

_Not like I have much of a choice. I haven’t got a clue where anything is._ “Yeah. Sure. This doesn’t mean I’m going to be friends with you, though.”

Surprisingly, Bonnibel laughed. “I didn’t expect you to be. Let’s go, I don’t want to be late.”

As soon as Marceline repacked her bag, Bonnibel grabbed her by the hand and dragged her from the classroom and into the busy hallway. _Jesus Christ does this girl have zero boundaries? Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush-_ “Fucking hell Bonnie, do you drag everyone around like this?”

Bonnibel briefly glanced back at her. “I’m serious about not wanting to be late. If I lost you in the hallway, we certainly would be. Do you really have to swear?”

“You fucking bothered by it or some shit?” Marceline scoffed. She towered over the girl by at least a good five inches, and she _still_ had the audacity to drag her through the hallway and tell her not to curse? _Kinda hot, not gonna lie. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop cursing though._

Bonnibel simply glared back at her and kept marching stoically through the hallway. As they traveled through the busy school, a girl with blonde hair materialized from the crowd and threw her arm around Bonnibel’s shoulder. “Bonnibel, dude! I barely saw you over the summer!”

“I was doing research Lady, you know how important it is to me,” Bonnibel replied. “And really? ‘Dude?’ You’ve been hanging with the Mertens too much.”

Lady rolled her eyes and gave Bonnibel a soft punch on the shoulder. “I’m literally dating Jake.” Her eyes flicked back towards Marceline, unsure of her general appearance. _See, that reaction is what I was going for._ “Who’s this?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Marceline said under her breath.

“This is Marceline Abadeer, she’s Mr. Petrikov’s niece.”

Marceline scrunched her nose in disgust. “Ew, don’t call him Mr. Petrikov, that’s weird. How’d you know my last name?”

Bonnibel sighed and shot Marceline yet another disapproving look. “Roll call, you still had your earbuds in.”

Marceline nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Well, you two have fun. I’ve got art this hour.” Lady noticed their linked hands and shot Bonnibel an odd look that Marceline couldn’t quite decipher before dipping down a hallway to their left. “See ya later, Pbubs.”

Marceline stared at Lady’s back as she left. “What kind of fucking nickname is that?”

“You weren’t the first person to call me princess, believe it or not,” Bonnibel responded dryly

Before Marceline could ask her to explain, Bonnibel lightly directed her out of the noisy hallway and into a classroom on their right. It looked like a standard math classroom, complete with graphs and basic algebra equations hung neatly on the wall. Great.

“You’ll wanna sit in the back again, yeah?” Bonnibel asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“I am, but you can sit wherever. I don’t care,” Marceline replied without meeting Bonnibel’s eyes. Yes, she did want to sit next to Bonnibel, but she was just as keen on avoiding every person in this school, very cute pink-haired girls included. Having friends was terrifying, and Marceline was well versed in the world of being the social outcast. Why stop now?

“Something tells me you don’t like random people sitting beside you.” Bonnibel dropped Marceline’s hand. As much as she missed the hand-holding, Marceline mentally scolded herself at even thinking about holding them again. _Relationships are scary as hell._

Marceline laughed with no mirth. “You’re just as much a stranger as everyone else here. But if you feel the need to sit by me, go ahead.” It wasn’t a lie; Marceline didn’t know Bonnibel any better than the rest of her new peers. So why did it feel so terrible saying it to her face?

“You are so frustrating.” Bonnibel glowered at her and spun her to two back seats, similar to the placement in Simon’s class.

“What?” Marceline asked, dumbfounded by Bonnibel’s sudden indignation and allowing herself to be pulled to the back of the classroom.

“I’m trying to be nice to you!” Bonnibel growled as she pushed Marceline into her corner seat. “Normally I would _never_ take the back seat in a class. Never.”

Marceline scratched her head absentmindedly. “I mean… you really didn’t have to?”

Bonnibel set down her bag and scrutinized Marceline knowingly. “I know, you dingus. But I’ll bet you didn’t hear what everyone was saying about you when you had your earbuds in.”

Marceline felt that familiar anxious feeling drip into her bones. “What do you mean?”

Bonnibel organized her pink notebook and pens–Marceline was noticing a theme–before explaining to her. “They were speculating things about you. Most of them were convinced you were a no-good skater who smoked cigarettes and drank a bunch of alcohol and spent all your money on hard drugs.”

Marceline wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I would never smoke a cig. Gross. I do skate though, and I’m not against some good alcohol.”

Bonnibel sighed. “Could be worse. You’re going to have a hard time making friend with those rumors, though.”

Before Marceline could question Bonnibel more, the teacher started class and Bonnibel sat to attention. The short man started roll call, and Marceline’s name was called first, as per usual. To her surprise, Bonnibel’s was called directly after, and Marceline finally got her last name. Bonnibel Banner.

…

“So, do you want to sit alone in lunch, or would you like to sit with me and my friends?” Bonnibel asked her after their fifth hour, AP U.S. History. _How do I have three classes with this girl? Actual insanity._ She wasn’t one to take an AP class, but Simon had pushed her into taking a few. Besides, she had a sneaking suspicion that Bonnibel wouldn’t let her fail. The aforementioned girl poked her teasingly in the shoulder. “Or do you actually prefer being the loner with no friends?”

“I’d eat with you, but I’m not hanging out with the rest of those pricks.” Marceline scuffed the ground with her shoe. “And yes, actually, I’m pretty good at being the loner with no friends.” She had never been great in social situations and despised meeting new people. It gave her anxiety, and honestly, she didn’t mesh well with most people she had met.

“I can change that whole ‘no friends’ thing. You’d actually eat with me?” Bonnibel was trying to hide a smile, although she was failing rather miserably.

“Uh, duh? Everyone in my third and fourth hours straight up ignored me. Which is perfectly fine by me, by the way. Only you though, I don’t have a reason to trust your friends.” Marceline’s face turned apprehensive as she tried to push away intrusive memories. _I know what happened last time. There’s no way in hell it’s happening again._

Bonnibel sighed. “They don’t bite, y’know. They’re good people.”

“My only good people was Keila, and she’s back in Chicago. You think I’m gonna trust them just because you say they’re good people?” Marceline shook her head. “That’s not how this works.”

“You... you phrased that really weird. Am I good people?” Bonnibel asked.

Marceline sized her up. “You have potential.”

“That’s all I need.”

Bonnibel directed them through the lunch line, and then led Marceline outside. They settled beneath a large oak tree, lunch trays balanced in their laps, content to sit with their backs resting on the massive trunk. The leaves rustled overhead from a slight breeze coming from the north, and for once, Marceline didn’t really mind sitting outside. It felt almost peaceful.

“What about your friends? Don’t they think you’re sitting with them?” Marceline asked through a mouthful of pizza, forgoing all manners. If her father caught her talking with her mouth full to someone she had just met, she probably would have gotten a full lecture on the proper etiquette a nice young lady should have. Bonnibel didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.

“Oh, I texted the group chat and informed them of my location. They’ll be fine without my presence. Normally I just study, so it’s not going to be too different without me.” Bonnibel leaned back on the tree in thought. “Although I guess Lady might be annoyed at me.”

“That was the girl from the hallway, yeah?” Marceline recalled.

Bonnibel hummed in agreement. “Yep. Best friend since... oh what was it, third grade?”

Marceline whistled, impressed. “Wow. Long time, I guess.” Marceline had refused to talk to almost everyone except Keila until middle school, which had put a slight damper on her ability to make new friends. Not that Marceline had ever complained; Keila was great company.

“What about you?” Bonnibel questioned, head tilted. “You mentioned a girl named Keila, right?”

“Yeah, Keila. She’s back in Chicago, we met at my old school.” Marceline had an involuntary shiver at the thought. “Hated that fucking place.”

“Why? Was it a big school?” Bonnibel set her lunch tray on the grass and turned to face Marceline attentively, inviting further conversation.

“I mean, yes, but that’s not why I hated it.” Marceline took another huge bite of pizza, and Bonnibel waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, Bonnibel put her head in her hands and leaned forward on her elbows.

“Why, then?” She gently questioned.

Marceline grimaced at the resurfacing memories and rested her head back on the tree. “That’s a story for another time, princess.”

“I’m here anytime you want to talk about it, Marcy.”

Marceline snorted at the nickname and finished off the rest of her pizza. Bonnibel furrowed her eyebrows at her in uncertainty. “What?”

“That nickname. Only Keila and Simon and my…” _and my mother._ “Y’know what, forget it.”

Worried she had upset Marceline, she prodded her leg and asked, “You don’t want me to call you Marcy? I can stick with Marceline if you’d like.”

Marceline thought for a moment. _Well… I guess it wouldn’t be awful to hear that nickname again. I do like it, even if it hurts a little._ “It’s cool Bonnie, you can use it. I don’t care.”

Bonnibel eyed her carefully, not wanting to push Marceline away after the progress she had made today. “Alright, if you say so.” The bell rang inside of the building, signaling the end of lunch. She tugged on Marceline’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s get to class.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are appreciated <3


	3. hard times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hard times - paramore  
> ;)

**Saturday, August 24 th**

Five classes. Marceline had five out of seven classes with Bonnibel. In addition to their morning classes, both of her afternoon classes (English and Anatomy) were shared with the pink-haired girl as well. Their only schedule differences were music and music theory, her third and fourth periods. Bonnibel had German and physics separate from Marceline, and was already somehow more than proficient in both subjects. When she asked about Bonnibel's German classes, she had simply laughed and responded in German, refusing to translate whatever she had said. Marceline didn’t normally make it a habit to befriend the smart girl, but honestly, she enjoyed the company. _Not as good as Keila, but she’ll do. If she’d stop pestering me about getting more friends, that is._

She was sitting on her bed, casually jamming out on her gently worn acoustic guitar that was in desperate need of new strings, when she got a text number from an unknown number.

 **Unknown (11:36):** Hello, this is Bonnibel. I got your number from Mr. Petrikov.

Dumbfounded, Marceline stared at her phone screen. _Why didn’t she just ask me? And more importantly, why the fuck is Simon handing out my phone number?_ Marceline quickly added her as a contact before responding.

 **Marceline (11:38):** uhm, hi. you could have asked me for my number, you know

 **Bonnibel (11:39):** I didn’t know when to bring it up. Would you like to work on our chemistry project today?

 **Marceline (11:40):** why do you sound so formal

 **Marceline (11:40):** yeah sure, why not

 **Bonnibel (11:41):** I’m just using proper grammar. Is my place okay? I can pick you up.

 **Marceline (11:41):** sounds good to me

 **Bonnibel (11:42):** Alright. Simon gave me your address as well; I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.

 _Did… did she just use a semicolon in a text?_ Either way, it was time to get dressed. Today’s outfit was much more casual than her school outfits; she didn’t really feel the need to look punk rock and intimidating around Bonnibel, whatever that meant. The black skinny jeans weren’t leaving, though. Marceline carefully packed her bass in its soft case as well, the one that had backpack straps, and slung it over her shoulder. She didn’t doubt she would get bored, and it would be nice to mess around on her bass while Bonnibel did… whatever she normally did.

She jogged upstairs and found Simon making himself a sandwich in the kitchen. He smiled at her when she walked in. “Good morning, Marcy. Any plans for today?”

“Yeah, actually. Bonnibel texted me? Why’d you give her my number?” Marceline walked to the fridge and grabbed a Monster to take with her. She much preferred coffee, preferably black, but energy drinks worked in a pinch.

“Well, I thought it would be nice for you to have some friends. Bonnibel’s the only person I’ve seen you talk to,” Simon replied.

Marceline rolled her eyes and leaned casually against the fridge. “That was on purpose, Simon.”

“Sweetie, I know your last school didn’t go very well in the friend department, but this is a whole new town. You can start fresh.” Simon cut his sandwich (turkey and provolone, absolutely disgusting in Marceline’s eyes), and sat down at the table.

“I am starting fresh. Doesn’t mean I need to have friends, though. I facetimed Keila last night, and that’s all the friendship I need.” _It would be a lot better if Keila were here though. I miss her._

Simon shot her a sad smile. He was one of the few people that actually knew what went down in Chicago. “I just don’t want you to be alone.”

Marceline scoffed. The chances were higher that she got struck by lightning than Bonnibel deciding to leave her alone. “Bonnie’s not going to let that happen, at this rate. Oh, I’m going to her house to work on the chem project, by the way.”

Simon nodded and flicked open a newspaper that was sitting on the table. “Alright, have fun.”

Marceline walked out the front door and sat down on the stoop. It was a cloudy Saturday, not an inch of blue sky to be seen. This was Marceline’s favorite weather; she loved overcast days where there was no pressure to go outside, and she could spend hours inside songwriting with her bass. _And, added bonus, no hot ass sun._

A well kept black truck rolled into her driveway, interrupting her thinking. _No fucking way does Bonnibel Banner, nerd extraordinaire, drive a cool ass black truck. What the fuck?_ The window rolled down and was immediately proved wrong. Bonnibel waved her over, donning that adorable smile that already made Marceline’s legs turn to jelly. Marceline complied and hopped into the passenger seat.

“How’s your morning been, Marcy?” Bonnibel asked her as she backed out of her driveway, doing that thing where she put her hand on Marceline’s seat to look where she was going. It gave Marceline butterflies in her stomach, and she had to try desperately to not show any physical reaction.

“Uh, pretty okay. I only woke up like an hour ago.” Marceline fidgeted with the case of her bass that she had set safely between her legs.

Bonnibel clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth disapprovingly. “Marceline Abadeer. It’s noon. How late did you stay up?”

“Oh, not too late. Maybe four in the morning?” Marceline shot her a sly grin and took a massive swig from her Monster. “I’m fine, Bon, chill out.”

“It’s important to get good sleep, Marceline. What’s that?” Bonnibel asked, nodding towards her case, causing her pink hair to fall into her face and sent Bonnibel cursing under her breath while rushing to fix it.

Marceline glanced down to her bass, where she was still unconsciously fiddling with the straps. “This is my bass guitar. I, uh, I write and play music.”

“That makes sense. You’re in music and music theory, right?” Bonnibel looked to Marceline for confirmation with those blue eyes that made Marceline swoon. _Christ Marceline, you’ve known this girl for like three days and you’re already this whipped? I’ve gotten soft._

“Yeah, I really enjoy it. I’m going to college to major in music theory, just so I can write better music.” To say music is Marceline’s life was an understatement. She would rather die than never be able to play music again.

“Well,” Bonnibel stopped at a red light and turned to face Marceline, who was praying to the gods above that her cheeks wouldn’t go red. “You should play for me sometime.”

 _Oh my god oh my god I think I understand gay panic now-_ “I- I can play you something when we get to your house?” Marceline stuttered.

Bonnibel’s face lit up in pure joy, the same smile that made any room feel lighter adorning her face. “I’d love that, but we’re doing the chem first, okay?”

Marceline leaned back in her seat and smiled to herself. “Yeah, okay brainlord.”

…

Bonnibel pulled up to a studio apartment complex, much to Marceline’s confusion, but Bonnibel didn’t say anything about it so she didn’t either. They found their way to Bonnibel’s studio and stepped inside. It was rather small with just a queen size bed, a large desk, a kitchenette in the corner and a door to a bathroom off to the right. Bonnibel sheepishly smiled and closed the door behind them. Her desk was cluttered with various science instruments, the only one recognizable to Marceline being the microscope, all looking very used but well taken care of, the same as the truck outside.

“I know it’s not much, but it’s what I have.” Bonnibel sat down on the bed and patted the sheets next to her. “Make yourself at home.”

Marceline sat herself on the bed next to Bonnibel and looked around the room. The walls were painted a dark charcoal grey and blackout curtains covered the window by the desk. Most of the other sparse decorations around the room were pink, including the bedsheets they were sitting on.

“You live alone? How?” Marceline asked, only a little jealous. _Why can’t_ I _live alone?_ Okay, maybe more than a little jealous.

Bonnibel sat back on her bed so her back was against the wall. “It was a legal nightmare, believe me. Since my… I don’t currently have a legal guardian in my immediate family, so I live here.” Bonnibel rested her head on the wall and sighed. “Lady’s family helps me out with the payments.”

Marceline sat sideways on the bed to face Bonnibel. “Jeez, Bonnie. That sounds stressful as hell.”

She closed her eyes, suddenly looking a lot older than sixteen. “You have no idea.”

Marceline examined Bonnibel’s face. She looked tired; a lot more tired than a junior in high school should be. With her eyes closed and her face relaxed, Marceline could tell Bonnibel had been through some shit. _Yeah, I’m not waiting for music time. Now is music time._

Grabbing her bass from its case and throwing the strap over her shoulder, Marceline smiled at Bonnibel, who unfortunately still had her eyes closed. “I think I’ve got a good song for the both us.”

She made herself comfortable at the end of the bed, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and started playing.

“All that I want

Is to wake up fine

Tell me that I’m alright

That I ain’t gonna die,”

Bonnibel sat up a bit straighter and watched Marceline with interest, a small smile forming.

“All that I want

Is a hole in the ground

You can tell me when alright

For me to come out,”

Bobbing her head, Marceline closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. She was a massive fan of Paramore and knew the chords by heart.

“Hard times

Gonna make you wonder why you even try

Hard times

Gonna take you down and laugh when you cry

These lives

And I still don’t know how I even survive

Hard times

Hard times

And I gotta get to rock bottom,”

Marceline opened her eyes again to see Bonnibel’s staring straight back at her, entranced by Marceline’s singing. Having a moment of courage, Marceline winked at Bonnibel before closing her eyes and starting the next stanza (and completely missing the pale blush that rose on Bonnibel's cheeks).

“Walking around

With my little rain cloud

Hanging over my head

And it ain’t coming down

Where do I go?

Gimme some sort of sign

You hit me with lightning

Maybe I’ll come alive,”

Marceline didn’t want to open her eyes again until she was finished playing. _Just the chorus one more time and I’ll stop._

“Hard times

Gonna make you wonder why you even try

Hard times

Gonna take you down and laugh when you cry

These lives

And I still don’t know how I even survive

Hard times

Hard times

And I gotta get to rock bottom.”

Bonnibel was staring at Marceline with her mouth agape, completely and utterly transfixed by Marceline’s cover. Marceline was slightly uncomfortable with the attention, but at the same time, the look felt very flattering coming from Bonnibel.

“What, was it that bad?” Marceline laughed nervously.

Bonnibel was still having trouble processing. “Marcy- that was- you have the voice of a literal goddess,” she finally managed to get out. “Have you ever taken voice lessons?”

“Nope, no voice lessons.” Marceline shifted on the bed; her dad was the reason why that had never happened, and he was still a fairly touchy subject. “My father would never pay for that. He only believes in business and the church and shit like that.”

Bonnibel leaned forward and pulled Marceline into a giant hug. “Well, he’s a fool for not recognizing your talents. That was absolutely amazing, Marce.” She leaned back, and to Marceline’s never-ending surprise, pecked her on the cheek.

 _For the love of the gods, why the hell does she do shit like that-_ “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I love Paramore.”

She could feel Bonnibel studying her carefully as she repacked her bass. “Is that part of the reason you’re here in Clearwater? Your father, I mean.”

Marceline grimaced at the resurfacing of past memories. “Partially, yeah.” She sat back on the bed, throwing her legs casually over Bonnibel’s lap.

Bonnibel patted her comfortingly on the ankle, and Marceline’s heart warmed the tiniest bit. “Do you want to talk about it? We can always do chemistry tomorrow.”

“Bonnibel Banner, setting aside work for me?” Marceline said jokingly. “How kind, I feel very fucking special.”

Bonnibel rolled her eyes, the motion dripping with sarcasm. “Language. I care about you, okay? I’ve never gotten along with someone this quickly, and I’ve certainly never invited someone I’ve known for four days into my studio.”

Marceline nodded slowly, struggling to organize the thoughts floating in her head. “Now that you say that, I’ve only ever had three friends. Four, including you. And two of them are permanent ex-friends I’m not…” Marceline trained her eyes on the ceiling and tried desperately to avoid feelings from her past. She wasn’t ready to visit that place in her mind where she tucked away bad memories. “I’m not entirely sure I’m okay with talking about my father or my old school yet.”

“And that’s perfectly okay.” Bonnibel folded her hands and set them on Marceline’s shins. “You can talk about it whenever you’re ready, no pressure.”

Marceline nodded her thanks and yawned wide enough to reveal her pointy canines. Frowning, Bonnibel poked her cheek. “Marce, you’ve got dark bags under your eyes, you know that?”

“I might be a little tired, yeah,” Marceline responded sheepishly.

“Caffeine isn’t a replacement for sleep, you know.” Bonnibel shook her head and laughed. “That’s hypocritical for me to say, I live off caffeine during finals week. Why don’t you take a nap here, Marce?”

She rubbed her eyes and stifled another huge yawn before responding. “Like, right now? Man, that Monster did nothing.”

“Yes, right now. I’ll tuck you in.”

Marceline protested, but Bonnibel laid her head on the pillows and draped a blanket over her. She ran her fingers soothingly through Marceline’s hair, and despite her best efforts, Marceline could feel her eyelids drooping shut. Having her hair played with was her weakness, which was something Bonnibel seemed to recognize and exploit. Bonnibel gave her a motherly kiss on her forehead, but she didn’t register it in her drowsy and mostly-asleep state. “Sweet dreams, Marcy.”

…

“Yo, P-bro! What’s good?” Lady barged into her studio, startling Bonnibel, who immediately raised a finger to her lips and shushed Lady, jabbing her thumb in Marceline’s direction. Lady looked over and her face twisted in obvious confusion upon spotting the tall girl dozing in Bonnibel’s bed.

Bonnibel got up from her spot at her desk, where she was busy finishing up her and Marceline’s chemistry project. Normally she would never complete a group project by herself, but something was different this time. She couldn’t quite place her finger on it. Bonnibel, as was the norm these days, assumed it was nothing.

She led Lady into the hallway and gently closed the door. “Hey, what’s up Lady?” Bonnibel nonchalantly asked. In all honesty, she didn't really like surprise visits from her friends. They always dragged her to the mall or some other public area, and she would much rather be at home with her lab equipment.

“What’s up? What do you mean, what’s up? Marceline Abadeer is sleeping in your bed!” Lady stared at her, open-mouthed with slight alarm. “Seriously Bon, are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

Bonnibel smiled that familiar warm smile that was as fake as a masquerade mask. “I’m fine, Lady, although your concern is admirable.”

Lady didn’t look convinced, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Dude. You’ve known this girl for what, four days?” She shook her head slightly in disbelief. “The Bonnibel I know would never do that. Ever.”

“I’m still the same person, Lady,” Bonnibel laughed nervously. Okay, sure, maybe she had grown close to Marceline in the past few days, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She felt connected to Marceline. Never once had Bonnibel felt so comfortable around someone she had just met, and never once had she felt so safe around another person. Not since- _Banner, you know better than to think about that._ Bonnibel didn’t believe in fate or serendipity or luck, but she couldn’t deny that she really enjoyed Marceline’s company.

“I’m not sure you are, Bon.” Lady grew even more exasperated at Bonnibel’s unconvinced expression. “I’m dead serious! You haven’t hung out with any of us in months, but all of the sudden you’re all buddy-buddy with Marceline? I’m your best friend and you can’t even make any fucking time for me. I tried to give you space, Bon, and I did. For months. But you have to start socializing again at some point.” Bonnibel stood rigidly shell-shocked, dismayed by Lady’s sudden rant, every word feeling like it was stabbing her brain. She went to touch Lady on the shoulder and apologize, but Lady shoved her hand away in anger and turned away before Bonnibel could speak.

“By the way, Finn and Jake haven’t heard from you since last school year. They sent their love, if that means anything to you,” Lady spat over her shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

Bonnibel stood frozen, mouth agape, struggling to process what just happened. Everything had escalated so quickly, and she hadn’t even been able to get a word in. She sighed and leaned back on the wall next to her door. She couldn’t tell Marceline about this and risk losing a friend she just made. What if Marceline hated her and thought she was an awful friend? And then decided she never wanted to speak to Bonnibel again? What if Marceline did stop talking to her, and it was her fault Marceline didn’t have any friends at school? What if…

_Stop it Banner, you idiot. Get a grip on yourself._

Bonnibel took a deep breath and unconsciously started fidgeting with her fingers. _You are not allowed to have a panic attack right now. Imagine if Marcy heard you._ _She would never want to be friends with you. Go inside and do the chemistry, having something to work on always calms you down. And then Marceline won’t have to know._

With shaking hands, Bonnibel let herself back into the studio and immediately checked on Marceline. To her immense relief, the taller girl was still asleep and snuggled into the blankets Bonnibel had thrown over her. The juxtaposition of Marceline’s expression from its normal scowl was amusing; she looked soft and serene, gently hugging a pillow while two blankets – one blanket wasn’t long enough – were draped over her. The sight calmed Bonnibel down a bit; Marcy didn’t hear what happened with Lady in the hallway. _Good._

Breathing slightly erratically, Bonnibel sat down and pulled open their chemistry presentation. She lost herself in the textbook, typing becoming a cathartic motion that served to relax both her breathing and her tense muscles. Now _this_ she knew how to do; she was competent at losing herself in her studying; only god knows how much of that she had done in the past year. Plus, the benefit of using studying as a coping mechanism was good grades and a high ACT score, which she needed to get into a good college.

Bonnibel continued typing and studying well after she had calmed down, and only stopped when Marceline finally woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end of my back-to-back posting - i already had all of this typed out and written  
> expect maybe a couple days to a week for updates, and if it's anything longer i'll say something :)
> 
> comments and kudos are very welcome!


	4. pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pressure - paramore

**Wednesday, August 28 th**

“You know how much I don’t want to do this, Bonnie,” Marceline grumbled as the pair made their way to the library after their final period. She had only agreed to the study group because Bonnibel had promised give Marceline some much needed help with her math homework. If she was lucky, she could probably even convince Bonnibel to do some of it for her, which would be a huge win.

Ignoring Marceline’s complaining and holding the library doors open for her, Bonnibel ushered her into the school’s large library. The smell of new and old paper hit Marceline like a comforting blanket, the same smell she had become familiar with from the time spent in her mother’s study back home. She hadn’t actually read a book that wasn’t required for school in over a year, but she could still recall that blissful feeling of being so immersed in a book it almost felt like reality.

A loud male voice from her left snapped Marceline out of her reverie. “Hey guys, over here!”

Marceline turned her head to see a ragtag group of students piled at a table that was far too small for all of them to sit at. She recognized Lady, who she had seen a few times talking to Bonnibel between classes and was currently sitting on the lap of a rather muscular boy, but the others? Not so much. Marceline tried to take a step toward them, but was met with a numb feeling in her legs and a rising sense of self-doubt. _I really don’t want to be here, oh god, what do I do? If this turns out anything like last time, there’s nowhere else for me to go._

Thankfully, Bonnibel seemed to sense her inner turmoil and gently put her hand on the small of Marceline’s back, guiding her towards the small group of friends. She sat Marceline on small faded red couch that sat parallel to the table and flopped down next to her.

Bonnibel pointed towards one of her friends, a blonde-haired boy with a bright lime green backpack, who was busy folding a paper airplane out of what appeared to be his math homework. “This is Finn, and this is Jake,” she shifted her hand to the boy Lady was sitting on, “you’ve met Lady already, and this is Phoebe,” she said, gesturing to a girl sitting across from Finn with flaming red hair who gave her a friendly smile and wave. Marceline decided scowling was bad idea and settled for nodding back. "Finn and Phoebe are both in the grade below us." Finished with introductions, Bonnibel started digging through her back for her homework.

Everyone at the table had been friendly enough towards Marceline, either offering a smile or nod, but Lady had settled on cold indifference, neither acknowledging her presence or complaining about it. Marceline didn’t know what she had done to upset her, but the tension was palpable between her and Bonnibel; she felt as if she could see it in the space between them if she tried hard enough. She decided it was best to not bring it up; Bonnibel certainly wasn’t going to

Finn shot her an excited smile. “Bonnibel says you play the bass, Marceline? That’s rad, I can beatbox!” He gave her a quick demonstration and Marceline couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Bonnie’s totally underselling me. I play eight instruments.” At Finn’s incredulous expression, she quickly rattled off the list of instruments as if she had done it a thousand times. She probably _had_ listed them a thousand times. “Guitar, bass, piano, flute, violin, mandolin, clarinet, and banjo.” Marceline couldn’t help but smirk at the boy’s amazement. “Although I could probably play any instrument you threw at me.”

Bonnibel shoved her shoulder lightly and laughed. “C’mon, stop showing off and get out your math homework.”

Marceline complied while muttering something about math being _the worst fucking subject alive_ and _a fucking waste of time_ , but Bonnibel pretended to not hear and instead placed her calculator on Marceline’s knee. It was a graphing calculator; buttons lovingly worn and beat up from consistent use. The back was littered with an assortment of stickers, most of them tattered gold stars presumably received from one of her classes a previous year. The one sticker that caught Marceline’s eye was a small mouse in the left corner, colored orange, white, and pink, in that order. _Huh?_ _There’s absolutely no way I got this lucky. It’s definitely a coincidence._

Before she could think about it more, the kid Lady was sitting on, Jake, spoke up in protest. “Don’t be a fun sponge, PB. Music is so much better than math.” He grinned impishly towards Marceline. “I play the viola, I’m in the school’s orchestra.” Jake flipped Bonnibel off jokingly, and much to Marceline’s surprise, Bonnibel mirrored him and even stuck her tongue out. _What, so she’ll flip someone the bird but I’m not allowed to curse? Hah. I bet I can get her to say “fuck.” New life goal achieved._

“How much money do I have to pay to get you to do this for me, princess?” Marceline drawled while gesturing towards her math homework. Bonnibel scowled at her, but the rest of Bonnibel’s friends looked over at Marceline with clear interest written on their faces (excluding Lady, of course). At Marceline’s raised eyebrow, Finn animatedly pointed at her with a shit-eating grin.

“You call her princess too?” She nodded slowly, confused, and he all but squealed at Bonnibel. “I told you we were right, you just have this _vibe_ , bro!”

Bonnibel shook her head in disagreement but didn’t grace Finn with a response, instead choosing to turn toward Marceline. “I’m not doing your homework for you, but I will let you check your answers with mine when you finish.”

Finn launched his paper airplane at Bonnibel hitting her square in the chest. “You just don’t wanna admit that we’re right, huh Peebles?” He seemed giddy that Marceline had called Bonnibel by that nickname, although she didn’t have a clue why. Phoebe saw her expression and took pity on her.

“We’ve had this debate since…” She turned to Finn, lost in thought. “Third grade, was it?” Finn eagerly nodded his head, and Phoebe’s gaze returned to Marceline with more confidence. “We had always called Bonnibel princess, and Bon over here would always insist that we were wrong. After a while the nicknames got pretty out of hand, and at this point anything starting with a ‘p’ is acceptable.” She glanced over at Bonnibel, who had checked out of their conversation and was busy with physics. “Well, acceptable to us, anyways.”

Marceline didn’t really understand their strange inside joke, and was still nervous around Bonnibel’s friends. Excluding Finn, perhaps, whose energy was contagious. They seemed nice enough, but then again, so had her friends from her school in Chicago. She mentally kicked herself. _Ex-friends._ She often got too far in her head thinking about social situations, which was how Marceline ended up doing something decidedly uncharacteristic: she stayed quiet, took Bonnibel’s calculator, and did her math homework. _Today is not the day to collect more friendships, no sir._ _Finn seems like a nice kid, though._

Their group more or less kept up friendly banter, primarily between Jake and Finn with occasional input from Phoebe. Bonnibel was studiously ignoring her friends until her homework was completed, and Lady was on her phone, scrolling through social media. Soon enough, though, Marceline finished her algebra and she tapped on Bonnibel to check it for her.

Bonnibel’s eyes lingered on her German homework while she grabbed Marceline’s paper. “Hm?” Her eyes took a minute to focus on the math, evidently still engrossed with German vocabulary. “Oh! Right. Give me a sec, let me look through this.” Bonnibel took out her own math homework, which was far tidier than Marceline’s messy scrawls, but Bonnibel had nothing to say about the quality of her work. If anything, her eyebrows were raised further and further as she looked through Marceline’s answers.

Bonnibel turned to face Marceline, a quizzical expression adorning her face. “I thought you said you were bad at math?”

Marceline scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment. She had gotten a D in her math class last year, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t done it partially on purpose to enrage her father. “Um, yeah, I didn’t do great in my geometry class at my old school. Why?”

Bonnibel beamed at her in pride. “Marcy, these are all correct. What, are you a secret math whiz or something?”

Marceline leaned back into the couch, pleased with herself. “Well fuck, I didn’t expect that one.”

That earned her a slap on the bicep and an annoyed huff. “Marceline, language. You’re in school, don’t be distasteful,” Bonnibel reprimanded.

Marceline smirked mischievously. “Oh, lighten up Bonnie. I bet you’ll curse if you hang around me long enough.” Back in Chicago, Marceline had been known to never hold back her language, especially in front of teachers. Her father had wanted a perfect daughter, but there was a reason she was called his “little monster” rather than a kinder nickname. Plus, as an added bonus, her brother Marshall had found it hilarious when Marceline talked back to their teachers.

Bonnibel gasped in mock indignation “I would never.”

Putting hands behind her head in a display of confidence, Marceline asked, “Want to make that a bet, princess?”

Finally looking up from her phone, Lady sighed loudly and settled a burning glare on Bonnibel, interrupting the lighthearted mockery. “Nice to see you’ve found a new best friend, Bon.”

Bonnibel’s smile faltered, and she glanced hesitatingly between Marceline and Lady, the air itself feeling colder from the ire. “What?”

“I don’t know why you invited all of us if you just want to hang out with _her_.” Lady responded, jabbing her thumb in Marceline’s direction without tearing her eyes from Bonnibel’s. Marceline shifted uneasily in her seat and glanced at the exit. _Are they going to care if I leave? Bonnibel might. Wait… shit. Bonnie’s my ride home. Fuck._

Jake attempted to calm Lady down by patting her arm. “Chill dude, Marceline’s pretty cool.”

Lady shrugged off his hand and fixed her cold gaze on Marceline, whose stare also steeled. Internally, she was shaking in her boots, not that she would ever let it show. “Cool enough for Bonnibel to completely ignore me? Best friend for eight years means nothing, apparently.” Her glower returned to Bonnibel’s, who was twisting her hands together anxiously.

Phoebe piped up quietly from the back of the group. “I haven’t seen Bonnibel smile this much in ages, Lady. What’s wrong with her being friends with Marce?” She looked over at Marceline, who was sitting as still as a statue, watching the scene play out as if she weren’t there. “Hey, is it cool if I call you Marce?”

Marceline snapped out of her trance to apprehensively meet Phoebe’s eyes. “Oh, uh, yeah that’s cool. I don’t mind.”

“Speaking of nicknames. Why’s she allowed to call you Bonnie, when we,” Lady gestured towards the rest of the group, “were told specifically not to?”

Jake uncomfortably intervened again. “I don’t really think it matters, Lady.”

Marceline stared awkwardly at Bonnibel, who didn’t look away from Lady as if it were an intense staring contest. Technically, it _was_ an intense staring contest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize she didn’t want to be called Bonnie.” _What the fuck is Lady's deal? Rude bastard._

Interjecting before Bonnibel could get a word in, Lady snarled back at Marceline. “Because she doesn’t fucking care when you say it. But when we do, it’s the end of the world.” Lady got up from Jake’s lap despite his protests and sent Bonnibel one last withering glare. “You can’t just ignore your friends for months, Bon.”

Bonnibel’s expression shifted from apathetic to icy resentment, barely expressing itself on her face save for her narrowed eyes. Her voice was quiet as a mouse’s footsteps, and yet every word was audibly dripping in irritation. “You know very well how hard things were for me after my parents died.” She stood up, grabbing Marceline’s wrist and dragging her toward the exit. “I’m sorry for not being able to brush over the death of my family.” They left the library, Lady with conflicting guilt and anger written on her face, the rest of Bonnibel’s friends incredulously processing the spectacle with gaping mouths.

They marched through the hallways and outside to Bonnibel’s truck, stoically and silently, Marceline not daring to make a sound. They both hurriedly sat inside, and Bonnibel immediately put her head down on the steering wheel and let out an uneven breath, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Bonnie, hey.” Marceline lightly put her hand on Bonnibel’s shoulder and felt that the girl was shaking. She felt a rush of anger towards Lady; how could she be so insensitive and self-centered? She wanted to go back inside and punch her for what she did to Bonnibel. Marceline knew what loss felt like, and even though she knew Lady was probably just showing concern for her best friend in a weird way, she couldn’t help but blame her for causing this. Bonnibel’s erratic breathing brought her back to the present.

Marceline removed her hand from Bonnibel’s shoulder and softly spoke to her, trying to not exacerbate her panic. “Do you want to be touched right now, Bonnie? I can hold your hands, if you want me to.”

It took a minute for Bonnibel to process her words, but eventually she nodded and unclenched her hands from the steering wheel and took Marceline’s hands. Marceline soothingly ran her thumb over the back of her hand and asked Bonnibel to sit up, helping her when she tentatively agreed.

“Breathe with me, Bon. You’re okay.” She took an exaggerated breath in and Bonnibel mimicked her, shakily letting the breath go after holding it for a few seconds. They did this a few times until her breathing had returned to a mostly normal pace.

“I’m sorry for that.” Bonnibel nervously laughed and fidgeted with her fingers. “I don’t normally let it get to me that badly in public.”

Marceline gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “Your anxiety?” She nodded despondently at the question, and Marceline smiled sadly. “You have nothing to apologize for. I get it, my mom died back when I was younger. From cancer.”

Bonnibel hung her head again, voice quieting to a murmur. She didn’t sound sad, not exactly, just vacant and lost in memory. “My parents used to call me Bonnie. I had asked my friends to stop because it hurt too much to hear it.”

Concern filled Marceline’s voice; it had never been her intention to upset her. “Do you want me to stop?”

She considered it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I don’t really mind when you call me Bonnie. It’s sweet.”

They sat there a moment in silence, Bonnibel’s eyes trained on the dark clouds outside while Marceline studied her face. After a brief moment of stillness, Bonnibel finally looked her in the eyes. “It’s just… it’s not something I can just forget, you know? It’s only been six months.”

“I know, Bonnie.” Rain started to sprinkle down from the grey clouds above, gently pattering on the windshield; Bonnibel finally starting to relax from the tranquil sound of the rain’s rhythmic tapping. Marceline squeezed her hands tighter in reassurance. “Believe me, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of bonnibel's anxiety will be based off of my own. i'll try to represent it as best as i can
> 
> <3


	5. january gloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> january gloom - all time low

**Sunday, September 1 st**

Marceline was hanging out at her desk in the basement, absentmindedly strumming easy chord progressions she had memorized. Keila was supposed to video call her sometime within the next couple of minutes. They had scheduled to talk on Saturday, but Keila had taken an extra shift at the small radio station she worked at and couldn’t make it that night, so they settled on Sunday before Keila’s night shift. She was the only friend Marceline had left from Chicago, and Marceline wasn’t about to lose her as well.

Her thoughts wandered, as they did most days, to a certain pink-haired girl that she shared most of her classes with. Bonnibel had seemed completely composed the days after her panic attack last Wednesday, almost as if the events from the library didn’t occur. Marceline was one-hundred percent sure there was something Bonnibel wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t want to pry this early in their friendship. She was sure time would reveal what was going on, and she was fairly content with how things were at the moment. After all, Marceline was withholding information as well, and it didn’t feel fair to demand Bonnibel to explain when Marceline wasn’t telling the entire truth either.

Besides, there was the whole other issue of Marceline’s massive crush on Bonnibel. She had managed to avoid blushing as much and hide her smitten state a bit better, but she was sure it was still pretty damn obvious Marceline fancied her. She couldn’t help it; she just had a thing for extremely pretty nerds that were very patient and considerate and benevolent and… Marceline almost choked when she checked in with her thoughts, and she messed up her chord progression. _Marcy, no. Bad. Bad thoughts. No thinking about Bonnie’s perfect hair or pretty eyes or… none of that. Nope._

As for the rest of Bonnibel’s friend group, however, none of them tried talking to Marceline again after the library incident, save for Finn, who always made a point to say something when he saw her in the hallway. That didn’t turn out to be too often, though, as Finn was a grade below her and had most of his classes in different hallways. Phoebe, also a grade below her, was the only other one who acknowledged her existence, and always made a point to smile kindly at her in the hallway. She liked Finn; he was a good kid, and reminded her of a younger and more considerate version of her brother. She had decided that Phoebe wasn’t too bad either, and had elected to go for a polite nod in the hallway when they made eye contact.

Lady and Jake, though? Marceline hadn’t seen them in a while, and she honestly wasn’t even sure that Lady was at school on Thursday and Friday. Normally they would cross paths in the hallway a couple times, and it was never hard to pick Lady out of a crowd on account of her bright clothing, but Marceline hadn’t spotted Lady even once. And if Bonnibel was telling the truth, then she hadn’t seen or heard from Lady at all, either. It was mildly concerning, but honestly, Marceline was just glad that she was staying away from Bonnibel for a while. _In my books, anyone who gives Bonnibel a panic attack is dirt. No if’s, and’s, or but’s._

Marceline’s laptop pinged with the expected call, startling Marceline from her contemplation. She accepted the video call to see a brightly-smiling Keila. She had always been the optimistic one out of the two of them, and could probably even rival Finn in the amount of energy she could have. “Hey, Keila. What’s up, how’s Chicago been?”

Keila bounced in her seat. “Dude it’s so boring without you here. I wish you could come back, Mar.”

“You know you can come down and visit me, dumbass.” Marceline struck a minor chord on her guitar and gave Keila puppy-eyes. “I’m so lonely, Keila. C’mon, come visit me,” Marceline whined.

“I promise I will once I get a car. I think I’ve convinced my mom to pay for half as long as I take care of gas.” She stuck her pinky finger towards the camera and wiggled it at Marceline. “Pinky promise.”

“Hey, that’s dope!” Marceline set her guitar down on its stand and fidgeted with her hoodie strings. “How have things been at school?”

Keila harrumphed and shook her head. “Same as always, I guess? You know I hate this place as much as you do. Thank god I’m a senior this year.” She tapped a rhythm on her messy desk, using her index fingers as drumsticks. Her face soured considerably as she hummed in thought, rhythmic tapping slowing down in tempo. Marceline knew that expression; it was the one Keila always made when she had to talk about something she didn’t like. “Oh, actually, um. Ash has been asking about you.”

Marceline froze, her heartbeat quickening and face losing all its color. “What does that asshole want?” _Not him. Anything but him. God, if he finds out my new number or even the town I live in, I’m screwed._

“I mean you know what he’s like, all full of himself.” Keila snorted at that. “Full of shit, more like. You know I never liked him, even when you guys dated.” She chewed her lip in thought. “Actually, especially when you guys dated.”

“What does he want, Keila?” Marceline demanded again. Ash had come into her life at a particularly low point, and Marceline didn’t have any intention of associating with him again. Sure, he had sort of stopped the bullying Marceline had to endure at her school in Chicago, but it was his fault in the first place for outing her as bisexual to a conservative Catholic school. Among the other shitty things he had done to her.

Keila’s eyebrows drew together and she uneasily mussed her hair. “Well, apparently he was never told that you were moving to southern Illinois. He’s still on all that bullshit about how he was the only one who was thoughtful enough to date you, that he was your only hope at dating anyone…” Keila’s voice trailed off. “The same shit, really.”

Marceline scowled in pure unadulterated hatred. And maybe a little bit of fear. “That bastard.”

“You know he’s wrong, right Mar?” When Marceline didn’t answer right away, Keila shook her laptop screen, commanding attention from the sudden motion. “Ash was a dick and you shouldn’t blame yourself for his stupid ass manipulation. We’ve been over this, Marmar.”

Marceline sighed a deep, troubled sigh. “I know you’re right, logically. But emotionally, my pea-sized brain can’t really help it and I sorta believe him, you know?” She had dated him for around two years, and it had been one of the only reasons kids at her school had stopped bullying and harassing Marceline about her sexuality (the other factor being her alternative choice of clothing). She hasn’t meant for anyone to find out she was bisexual other than Keila, and she definitely didn’t expect Ash and his dumb friend Brad to tell everyone at their entire Catholic school, and then eventually her father. _What a fucking asshole. Ruined my goddamn life._

Keila crossed her arms and pouted. “Well, you better get it in your pea brain that I love you, okay? I’ll always be here for you, Mar.”

A ghost of a smile fluttered across Marceline’s face as she leaned back in her desk chair. “Yeah, I know that, dummy. So, how’s my disappointment of a father been?”

Keila rubbed at her temples and shot Marceline an apologetic look. “Honestly, dude? It’s kinda like you don’t exist anymore. I’ve been over to see Marshall a couple times and it’s like, taboo to say your name.”

Marceline stopped fidgeting in sudden confusion. _Right, my idiot brother. Is it bad I forgot he existed?_ “Marshall hasn’t texted me since I moved, what’s up with that?”

Humming softly, Keila gently swiveled in her chair. “He said Hunson is like, monitoring his phone to see if he texts you. Which is fucked.”

“You’d think being bisexual is a federal offense or something,” Marceline remarked wryly.

Keila tilted her head, no doubt trying to make light of the situation. “I mean he _is_ a super conservative priest, dude.”

“Yeah, but you’d think he would, like… oh I don’t know, love his daughter or something?” Marceline muttered dourly, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve.

“I’m sure he’ll come around at some point?” Keila, ever the optimist, would probably keep arguing that Marceline needed to be hopeful about her relationship with her father, but she knew better than that. Her father had always taken the bible’s word literally, and she knew there was no chance of reconciling their relationship. _Why would I even want to at this point?_

She shook her head and smiled ruefully. “I think we both know the answer to that, Keila.”

Keila shrugged, not accepting defeat on the topic. She changed the topic subject before Marceline could say anything else about the inevitability of never having her father’s approval. “What about you, Mar? How’s school been for you?”

Marceline grinned shyly at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with Keila. She knew how this conversation was going to go down, and she didn’t want to make it more dramatic than it needed to be. “Okay. You’re not gonna believe this, but… I made a friend.”

Keila squealed, almost peaking the mic of her laptop. “Dude, that’s amazing! It took you almost five years to make a friend that wasn’t me, how’d you do it?”

She twisted her dark hair between her fingers in thought. “Great question, dude. I wasn’t the nicest person at first, I have no idea why she stuck with it.” Marceline blushed at the thought of Bonnibel. “I think she cracked my shell faster than you did, Kei.”

Keila’s mouth gaped open. “Dude, I got to your soft insides in like, two days. You’re saying you make a friend in less than two days?”

“Yeah. It was like, one school day and she wanted to be my friend.” She laughed guiltily and shook her head. “I was kinda mean to her, I seriously have no idea why she was so stubborn about it. And dude, you’re not gonna believe it, but she’s also super cute.”

Keila giggled like a schoolgirl and leaned forward in her seat. “Does our little Marcy have a crush?”

“Shut up, Kei.” She wished her face would stop blushing. It was her telltale sign; she was never able to learn how to fully control it. “And yeah, okay, maybe I do have a bit of a crush,” Marceline relented.

Keila clapped her hands together, actually peaking her mic this time. “Spill, Abadeer, What’s she look like, what’s she into?”

Marceline smiled absently and picked at a loose thread in her jeans. “Well. She’s got pink hair, about an inch shorter than you are, and she’s an absolute nerd for school. Like, straight A student. Simon absolutely loves her.”

Head in her hands, Keila slowly shook her head in disbelief. “Oh my god. Marce. You’ve fallen for a square, I cannot believe you.”

She smirked. “Hah. She even tells me “language” when I cuss. It’s kinda cute, actually.”

Putting one hand over her heart and the other over her brow, Keila gasped in mock distress. “My dear Marceline is in love with a dork. The big bad punk rock Marceline Abadeer! I can’t, this is hilarious.”

Marceline put her hands up in surrender. “Hey now, love is a strong word. I’ve known her for like two weeks bro, slow your horses.”

Keila laughed. “Seriously Marmar, tell me about her.”

A faraway expression danced across Marceline’s face, a relaxed smile a pleasant change from the normal scowl that was typically expressed instead. “Her name is Bonnibel. She’s super sweet and I actually share five classes with her, which is kinda insane. We sit together in all of them except US History, Ms. Grof did assigned seating. Bonnie loves the color pink, she’s all sciency and stuff, and she drives a massive black truck, which I think is dope as hell,” Marceline rambled. “She’s _so_ cool dude,” Marceline groaned and put her forehead on her desk, “and I am so far out of her league.”

Rapidly tapping her desk, Keila shook her head in disagreement. “What? C’mon dude, don’t think like that! If you convince yourself you’re never gonna get the girl, then you actually won’t get her. You feel?"

She lifted her head up, chin resting on the smooth wood of her desk. “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t even know if she likes girls, dude.”

Ever the dramatic cheerleader, Keila pumped her fist in the air. “Confidence, bro! You’ve got this, I promise. I’ve gotta go to work now, but you make sure to text me if you ever need anything, okay?” It was Keila’s personal job to hype Marceline up, and it was a job she always took very seriously.

Marceline smiled warmly at her friend. “Duh, Keila. I know.”

Keila blew her a kiss through the screen. “Love you, Marce!”

“Love you too.” She disconnected the call and closed the video call application. What was she going to do about all of this? She groaned and rubbed her eyeballs, trying to stop thinking about her insufferable crush. _Not that Bonnie is insufferable. She is most definitely not insufferable. God, I wish I didn’t like her so much._ That statement gave Marceline pause, and she froze on her way to her bed. _No, actually, that’s a massive lie. I love having a crush on Bonnie, let’s be real here_

She grabbed her teddy bear, Hambo, and curled up on her side in a nest of blankets. Marceline had always thought there was never such a thing as too many blankets, and she would fight someone if they disagreed. _I’ll just go to bed. Sleeping always solves all of my problems. Definitely. I’ll bullshit my homework tomorrow._

And so, Marceline laid in bed and waited for sleep to come. And, even though she would never admit it, she thought of Bonnibel the entire time she drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter chapter. school's been a little busy, and i have to deal with robotics club now
> 
> comments and kudos are massively appreciated  
> i have no idea what im doing


	6. little lion man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some changes!
> 
> as i've mentioned, each chapter is the title of a song  
> i've compiled all of these into a playlist that i will be adding to and i keep updating the fic  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3G1wQjoQgB3rg0Bu6KpJdv?si=_jm-kX8uQFWxiEyGUEhlBg 
> 
> i'm big on making character playlists as well; marceline, i've decided, shares my taste in music, which is primarily my playlist named "skate to assimilate." i made an entirely new playlist for bonnibel's music, and it's titled "w;qeklfjalwekf." elegant, i know.
> 
> that's all for now! thanks for reading :)
> 
> little lion man - cover by tonight alive

**Wednesday, September 4 th**

A light knocking at her door roused an exhausted Bonnibel from her vigil at her desk. She had been awake for almost thirty-three hours, having spent the previous night conducing the first half of the experiment she was finishing today. She was developing a potent acid and needed to wait a couple hours for this particular solution to be properly tested on three different materials; she needed it to be corrosive on some objects, but not others. Reluctant to be pulled away from her work, she gave a heavy sigh and walked over to her door.

And upon opening it, she found a face that she had not seen in six days: Lady Lee.

For a second they simply stared at each other, Lady looking like she wanted to run away while Bonnibel struggled to keep an impassive face. She had years of training though, and she found it within herself to compartmentalize her emotions to sort through at a different time. Neither girl wanted to speak first, but Bonnibel was extra determined to assume control of the situation and allow Lady to say the first words, so she stayed silent and waited.

It worked like a charm. Lady scratched the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable, and said, “Hey, Bonnibel. We need to talk.”

Bonnibel elected to keep quiet, and instead just opened her door wider and moved to the side, allowing Lady to enter. She kicked the door shut with her heel once Lady perched on the end of her bed, not quite making eye contact and leg bouncing restlessly. Flipping her chair around so it faced her bed, Bonnibel sat down, crossed her legs, and calmly rested her folded hands on her knee. Her last interaction with Lady wasn’t exactly the most… pleasant experience Bonnibel had ever had, and she felt more than a little trepidation despite her outward appearance. She really hoped she had nothing to worry about; Lady had always been her closest friend.

Lady exhaled shakily before finally looking Bonnibel in the eyes. “Listen. I’m really sorry Bon. I didn’t…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have a really good reason why that happened.”

“Yeah. I’d really hope so, Lady,” Bonnibel agreed.

“I didn’t mean to say all of that, I really didn’t. I just… fuck, this is hard to say.”

Opting to ignore the swear and leaning back in her chair, Bonnibel took a minute to assess Lady’s body language. She obviously felt guilty about what she had said, and Bonnibel had been friends with Lady far too long for her to cut off her relationship with her entirely after just one outburst. It just didn’t seem fair; they had grown up together, kept each other’s secrets, and neither girl had ever left the other’s side. _I’ll give her a chance. She_ is _my best friend, after all. I don’t think last Wednesday changed that, and there’s obviously something else going on._

Bonnibel took a deep breath and uncrossed her legs, trying to appear less intimidating. The last thing she wanted to do was scare Lady away. “We’ve been friends for a very long time, Lady, and I know this behavior isn’t normally how you act. Tell me what’s going on, okay?” She gave her a very small smile. “You know I can never stay mad at you.”

Lady hesitantly smiled back. “Thanks, Bon. You remember that one summer my family went back to Korea, like two years ago?”

She nodded slowly. “Yep, I remember that. What’s that have to do with Wednesday?”

“I’m getting there. As you know, my parents struggle with English sometimes, so they decided they wanted to take me back to South Korea for my mental assessment. They made it fun though, and the street food was _so_ good, dude. I’d recommend it if you ever go there.”

“Mental assessment?” Bonnibel gently questioned.

Lady nodded slowly. “Yeah. I had my first hypomania when I turned fourteen. That’s when I was diagnosed with bipolar two disorder.”

“And then you were put on mood stabilizers?” Bonnibel asked curiously. “Sorry for interrupting, I’ve done my fair amount of research into mental illnesses.”

“Yep. And recently, I decided I didn’t like the side effects of the one I’ve been on for about a year now, so we tried to switch it up.” Lady laughed awkwardly. “Obviously, it didn’t exactly go as planned. The new meds didn’t work out for me, and my system didn’t really appreciate the change. I was scared I would say something else dumb at school, so I just had my mom call me in sick. Don’t worry about my grades, I had Jake get my homework for me.”

Bonnibel still had one thing that bothered her a little bit, even if it was pretty hypocritical. _I’m not ready to tell Lady about my mental health, though._ “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Oh, Lady.” Bonnibel finally gave Lady a full grin. “You’re talking to the biggest nerd in school. I know better than to judge someone based on their mental health.” Bonnibel paused for a moment. _Should I just tell her? I highly doubt I’ll ever actually feel ready._

Lady spoke before she could deliberate further. “Are we good, then?”

She poked Lady in the shin with her shoe. “Yeah, we’re good.”

They sat there for a moment in brief silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence; it never was with Lady. _What kind of friend am I if I don’t tell her? It probably wasn’t easy for her to tell me about her own mental health. The least I can do is tell Lady the truth._

Bonnibel broke the silence, her mind made up. “I never mentioned why I was studying mental illnesses, did I?”

Lady shook her head lightly. “No, you never did.”

“Alright then,” she clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking, “I was researching because I was diagnosed with panic disorder. After my parents died.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Something in her face must have looked unconvinced or uncertain, because Lady reiterated again, “Seriously Bon, thank you. Does anyone else know?”

“No one else in our friend group knows, if that’s what you’re asking. The counselor at school knows and I managed to get permission to leave my class unannounced if I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack.” She glanced over to her window, out to the brilliantly blue sky, fluffy clouds dancing lazily without a care in the world. Bonnibel wished she could be a cloud in the sky, watching human life from a great distance and not having to deal with trivial day-to-day interactions. _Let’s be real Banner, you’d miss your friends too much. You big sap. Mental note: hang out with them more, because they’re wonderful and good for you. Marcy, too. Wait a sec…_ “Oh, Marceline knows as well.”

Lady blinked, puzzled. “Marceline? Why does she know?”

“Last Wednesday I had a panic attack in my car. I’m Marceline’s ride, remember?”

“Wait.” Lady’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She struggled to find her words again, but once she did, they were soft and full of guilt. “I gave you a panic attack, didn’t I?”

“Technically? It wasn’t you, per se, it was just…” Bonnibel absentmindedly twisted a ring on her left thumb; a nervous habit she had picked up over the past year. “It was just thinking about my parents too much, you know? I don’t want to disappoint them or ruin their image, and I overthink that a lot. Besides, Marceline was there and she helped me out. I never reached a full-force panic attack. My panic attacks aren’t necessarily caused by the impact of words, it’s mostly not feeling in control of a situation.”

She nodded, seemingly placated with that answer. “Either way dude, I'm really sorry. And speaking of Marceline,” Lady grimaced, “She definitely hates me now, doesn’t she? I mean, she’s basically your personal guard dog. Not that I’m complaining, as long as you’re safe.”

Bonnibel groaned and put her head in her hands. “Shoot, that’s problematic. She doesn’t exactly have the best opinion of you at the moment, yeah.” She propped up her head on her hands. “To be fair, Marcy has a solid reason to think in that way. You two didn’t really get off on the right foot.”

Lady threw her hands up in frustration. “I know, and I really wish that didn’t happen. I don’t hate her dude, it’s just- when I have a hypomania, all of my emotions are magnified. Most of the time it’s overwhelmingly positive emotions, and I guess in a way I thought it was? I was just feeling so confident that I was right, and I swore that Marceline was trying to take you away from me and that just felt so _wrong_. But like, it’s not wrong, it was just my skewed way of seeing things, you know? I’m sorry, I-”

“Lady! Chill out, I don’t blame you,” Bonnibel interrupted. “I know you couldn’t really control what you were saying. Or, well, at least I do now.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, shifting her weight uneasily on the bed. “I’ve screwed it up, haven’t I?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’ll be wary for a while, sure, but I bet she’ll warm up to you. It’s hard not to, you dingus,” Bonnibel said warmly. She had never been good at holding grudges, and she didn’t see the point in starting now.

Lady groaned with exaggerated despair. “Can’t I just leave you two to your own devices? She doesn’t look like the type of person who changes their opinion on someone easily.”

“Judging books by their covers, are we?” Bonnibel hummed.

Lady shrugged apologetically “Well, kinda? Dude, she’s like, actually terrifying. I don’t know how you got her to be nice to you. Marceline’s all combat boots and death glares.”

Bonnibel smiled fondly. “She’s a big marshmallow, really. You just gotta push past her tough exterior.”

“Right, tough exteriors. I bet she has a tough interior too, for most people. Most people except you.” Leaning imperceptibly closer to a protesting Bonnibel, Lady grinned slyly, ever the conspirator. “You like her, don’t you?”

Her eyes went wide and she looked anywhere but at Lady. _Is it that obvious?_ “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You and me both know that was the incorrect reaction to that question. Like, you basically just confirmed to me that you like her, dude.”

“I- what? No! No way, man,” Bonnibel sputtered.

Lady clasped her hands together. “Ha! Told you. You’re terrible at lying to me, Bonbon, you know you are.” She moved back on the bed so she was more or less lounging, back slouched against the wall. Bonnibel was just glad the tension from earlier had worn off, even if Lady’s posture did bother her slightly. Slouching isn’t good for the spine. “You don’t really platonic affection, dude. What did you say to me once, that you just tolerate it? And yet, you drag around Marceline by her hand and sit all close to her and stuff. You’ve got a massive crush Bonnibel, don’t even try to worm your way out of it.

Mildly annoyed, Bonnibel huffed and crossed her arms. _Can I really be read that easily? I know she’s my best friend, but still. Ouch._ “Okay, I like Marceline. So what?”

“So, what’s the deal there? You going to do anything about it?”

“Probably not? I don’t think she likes me in that way, to be honest. I’ve known the girl for what, two weeks?” Bonnibel shook her head decisively. “That’s entirely too soon to be expressing feelings." She paused for a moment. "Romantic feelings,” Bonnibel corrected.

“No it’s not, dude. Me and Jake started dating like a week after we met in middle school.”

“You and Jake are the exception, not the rule,” Bonnibel stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m just saying,” Lady said, amused, “That it can’t hurt to talk to her about your feelings.”

“You _know_ I don’t really like mentioning to people that I’m gay.” Her voice grew quieter. “I never got to tell my parents, you know? It just doesn’t feel right.”

Lady’s head tilted to the side, eyebrows raised in mild uncertainty. “You told me and Finn, though?”

Bonnibel heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I did. I told you because I thought you deserve to know, since you hold best friend status,” these words were punctuated with air quotes, “and I told Finn because the poor kid wouldn’t stop asking me out. I felt bad, constantly letting him down, but now he just points out cute girls when we hang out.” She shrugged. “It’s definitely an improvement.”

“Oh, is that why he stopped pining over you? Smart, Bon.”

She cracked a smile and tapped her head with her forefinger. “Only the smartest.”

“Awe, There’s my happy Bonnibel!” Lady stood up and pulled Bonnibel up into a brief hug. Platonic affection did weird her out sometimes, sure, but she was always willing to sacrifice minor discomfort for Lady’s happiness; touch was her love language. Lady wasn’t entirely unreasonable, either; she kept hugs nice and short. “Listen Bon, I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?” She prodded Bonnibel’s shoulder. “And for your sake, ask out Marceline.”

“I’m not asking her out, Lee.” Lady frowned at her jokingly before grinning and heading out, the door softly clicking behind her. The silence in the room felt almost bitter after being used to the camaraderie. It had certainly been a while since she had allowed herself to hang out with friends on a consistent basis. _Perhaps... maybe it's about time I fix that habit. That was nice, hanging out with Lady. I've missed doing that._

Bonnibel looked around the room for a moment, collecting her bearings and attempting recalling her train of thought. What exactly had she been thinking about? Bonnibel wandered back to her desk, the experiment still having at least an hour before she could make a conclusion about the results. She wanted her acid to react with glucose molecules, but unresponsive towards cell walls in plants. _Right. That’s what I was thinking about._

Spinning her chair back around, she resumed her previous position, perched on the chair, keeping an ever-watchful eye over the reaction. And after a while, conclusion written, she finally allowed herself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, i love reading comments  
> feel free to leave one :)


	7. ocean avenue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ocean avenue - yellowcard

**Monday, September 16 th**

It had been almost an entire month since Marceline left her old life behind, and to be honest, it had gone much smoother than she had ever imagined. Finn and Phoebe had both started calling Marceline their friend, which was shocking in her opinion, and Bonnibel had even invited her over a few more times. It was nice, even if it was primarily studying- or, rather, Bonnibel attempting to study and Marceline doing her best to goof off. She probably should be studying as well, but it was much more rewarding to make Bonnibel laugh.

As for their library study group, Bonnibel convinced Marceline to keep going, insisting they “just had a rough start, and they _were_ really good friends,” despite Marceline’s protests about being involved. They had settled on meeting twice per week, and much to Marceline’s disbelief, Lady and Bonnibel acted just as two best friends should, complete with natural banter–there was no hostility or adverse feelings anywhere between them. _The fuck is that about? It doesn’t make any goddamn sense. I get that Bonnibel and Lady have been friends for a long time, fine, whatever. But Lady was a bitch to me and Bonnibel, and that’s not exactly a good first impression, dude._

Presently, Marceline was walking up to Bonnibel’s apartment, skateboard and longboard in tow, the bottoms of which were littered with an assortment of stickers she had picked up over the years. She had no idea if Bonnibel had ever skated, but one way or another, Marceline was going to get her on one of the boards. Bonnibel had been shut up in her apartment nonstop ever since they met, and she had a sneaking suspicion this sort of behavior was common considering it wasn’t mentioned during the study groups. It would be good to get her outside and breathe some fresh air. Fortunately for Bonnibel, Marceline happened to be an avid skater, and was dead set on forcing Bonnibel outside and into the relatively cool September air. Just how Marceline liked it, which had to be a good omen. Right?

“Bonnibel?” Marceline called, knocking on the door with just the right amount of energy. Surprisingly, Bonnibel opened the door almost immediately, holding a steaming cup of coffee. Marceline swore she only owned the one mug, a grey one with the word “boss” written across it in all caps, because she had never seen Bonnibel use anything different.

“Marcy, hey. I was just cleaning up my chem equipment.” She eyed the boards Marceline was propping up beside the door. “Is it safe to assume you’re dragging me outside today?”

“Yup,” Marceline replied, popping the ‘p’ and grinning. “It’ll be fun, I promise. The parking lot is big enough to mess around on. I would have invited you over to Simon’s, but skating on his road is literally a death sentence.”

Bonnibel gestured for Marceline to enter. “You might as well sit down, I need to put this stuff away before we head out.”

“Nooo!” Marceline whined and pulled on Bonnibel’s arm. “C’mon, it’s already three in the afternoon, you need to come outside and have fun with me.” She was on a mission, and there was nothing stopping her once she got started, a trait that had gotten her and Keila in plenty of trouble in Chicago.

“But I…” Bonnibel glanced back at her makeshift lab and sighed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go to the parking lot.”

“Yes! Thanks, Bonbon.” She handed over the longboard. It was a solid forty-one inches long, and had wheels perfect for cruising over pavement with ease. The bottom of it was absolutely plastered with stickers, even more so than her skateboard. Marceline loved it to death, and had recently replaced the bearing with high quality ceramic ones. Only the best for her children.

Bonnibel begrudgingly smiled. “Yeah, yeah. If I’m sore tomorrow it’s your fault, Abadeer.”

The pair meandered to the parking lot, still bickering about whether or not Bonnibel would be sore. Marceline thought her point was pretty good. _I mean, if she went outside more often, some mild exercise wouldn’t make her sore. I_ am _correct._ Marceline hopped on her skateboard for a few practice laps around the perimeter of the parking lot, Bonnibel keeping up on the longboard with no problems. This alone amused Marceline; she had assumed Bonnibel wouldn’t be the type to learn how to skate. She was very wrong.

“I can probably still…” Bonnibel pushed off on the longboard again, this time crossing her feet in an intricate cross step that looked inexplicably graceful. Her feet wove back and forth on the deck in a mesmerizing pattern, until finally Bonnibel carved the board around and rolled lazily back to Marceline, who was completely flabbergasted and was sure her face looked as shocked as she felt.

“Damn, Bonnie. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Bonnibel kicked on the tail of the longboard and caught it cleanly. “I used to longboard all the time, before my parents died.” Marceline could tell there was more to it than that, but decided it was better not to push it. _It’s a good day. I don’t need to have some pesky feelings ruin it._

“Well, your skating style definitely matches your vibe, dude.” Marceline was duly impressed. She had mostly used her longboard for transport because the soft wheels handled pebbles much better than the hard wheels on her skateboard, and it glided better too. She had certainly never considered doing any fancy tricks like Bonnibel had just done.

She cocked her head, not unlike a confused Labrador. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just,” Marceline waved her hand in lieu of speaking. Apparently, her point didn’t get across, because Bonnibel simply stood there with a bemused expression and watched her struggle.

“You have such a way with words,” Bonnibel commented dryly, the hint of a grin dancing at the corner of her lips.

She barked out a laugh. “I dunno, it’s the princess vibe I guess. You’re all like, prim and prissy and proper and it totally shows in your skating.” Marceline rubbed the back of her neck and looked at the ground.

“Prim, prissy, and proper, huh?”

_Did that sound too mean? I didn’t want to be mean. Well, not_ that _mean, at least. A little mean is okay._ “Not that it’s a bad thing or anything, I think it’s super cool”

“It was a nice use of alliteration.” Bonnibel lightly punched Marceline’s shoulder. “How ‘bout you, what’s your skating vibe?”

“My vibe?” Marceline, in her totally non-biased opinion, thought she was a pretty good skater. “My vibe is totally rad, dude. Check it.”

She ran a few steps and hopped on her board before popping her tail on the ground and executing a quick kickflip. Swapping her stance to fakie and rolling back towards Bonnibel, she stuck her tongue out in Bonnibel’s direction mockingly and did a fakie tre flip. _Christ I was scared about that. Nice job Marceline, for not embarrassing yourself in front of a cute girl._

Bonnibel whistled, probably impressed that Marceline didn’t eat shit on the pavement. “Not bad, Marcy.”

“Not bad? Dude, tre flips are so hard, give me some credit here.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender, barely stifling a laugh. “It just matches you really well. Although,” Bonnibel mused, “If you really wanted to impress me, you’d have to skate vert. I don’t get vert at all, I’ve always been too scared to drop in.”

“Can you do any tricks?” Marceline questioned.

“I mean, I can ollie and ride off a curb. Just the basics.”

“I should teach you some street skating. I bet you could kickflip if you gave it enough tries, it’s not too bad once you get the hang of it.”

“Ehh…” Bonnibel let the longboard fall back on the ground and sat on top of it. “Tricks aren’t really my thing. I was really into longboard dancing when I was younger, but none of the flips ever interested me.” Her brows furrowed. “Plus your trucks are too tight, I can’t carve as sharp as I’d like to.”

Marceline mirrored Bonnibel, haphazardly dropping her board on the ground and flopping on the deck. “Nah man, I need my longboard trucks tight ‘cause otherwise it freaks me out.” She prodded the drop through wheels. “I know I’ll never get wheel bite because of the deck shape, but it still freaks me the fuck out. I have a habit of standing on the very edge of the board and it gets sketchy.”

Bonnibel crinkled her nose. “Don’t be distasteful Marceline.”

“What, saying ‘fuck?’”

“Duh.”

She laughed. “Dude, live a little. Everyone cusses, you’ve gotta be like the only person who doesn’t.”

Shaking her head vehemently, Bonnibel protested, “No, not true. My parents never cussed.”

Marceline nodded her head as well, albeit more slowly. “Uh huh. And let me guess, they were the ones who called it distasteful, too?”

“Yeah, and they were right.”

“You never got to live through your teenage rebellion years Bonnie, I bet you’d be cussing right now if your parents were standing here in front of us.” Marceline, quite frankly, considered herself to be the queen of teenage rebellion. She certainly had enough practice, with her and Keila’s antics and occasional partying in Chicago. If they walked her old neighborhood, they would probably find a few tags Marceline had spray painted for fun. Oh, and y’know, the whole ‘getting kicked out’ thing. It was her pièce de résistance, really. Her magnum opus.

She crossed her arms. “Absolutely not true. Mother wanted me to be successful, and in order to do that, I have to be respectable and courteous. Anything else would be improper.”

“Hey, Bon. Do you hear yourself right now?” Bonnibel huffed and stared at the ground, turning ever so slightly away from her. Marceline immediately leaned forward and carefully grabbed her elbow. “Nope, no shutting down, Bonnie, I know how you get with emotions. Stay with me.”

“I _am_ with you.” Bonnibel muttered.

Marceline scooted onto the longboard so she was sitting side-by-side with Bonnibel, her skateboard slowly rolling away and probably feeling very neglected. “I have a few points to make. First of all, it’s literally just you and me right now. No one would hear you swear if you decided to. Second, every kid has their own mini rebellion at some point. It’s natural to not think exactly how your parents do. Third, and probably most important: it’s your life, Bon, not theirs. You don’t have to live for them just because they’re not physically here.”

She sighed and dropped her head onto Marceline’s shoulder. “I just miss them, Marcy.”

“You want to know what Simon used to tell me when I was younger?” Bonnibel nodded her head. “He used to say that everyone has two lives. The first one is the life that we’re living right now, where we can touch things,” she grabbed Bonnibel’s hand, “and talk to people and eat food and do whatever the hell we want. And the second life,” Marceline dropped her hand and instead wrapped her arm around Bonnibel’s shoulder, tapping her forefinger on the girl’s pink head, “is the life they live in our memories after they’ve passed. They will never be truly dead if you don’t want them to be.”

Bonnibel was silent for a few heartbeats. “Sure. Sure, yeah. Fuck it.”

“Woo! There’s my girl!” Marceline slid onto the ground and sat cross legged so she could see Bonnibel’s face, grabbing both of her hands in the process. “How’d it feel, champ?”

“Felt fine, I guess.” She had a light blush on her face. _Strange. She must be embarrassed by saying fuck or something._

Marceline couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. First cuss words were always good reason for celebration. “Cheer up, dude. We’re gonna have the best teenage rebellion ever, just you wait.”

Finally relenting a small smile, Bonnibel looked up, blue eyes meeting green. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my grades.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Bonnie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK SCHOLARSHIP ESSAYS
> 
> i meant to update sooner, but. see above.
> 
> comments are very appreciated! i'm also working on editing the previous chapters to improve my writing. no big content changes, i'm just making sure everything reads a bit better. :)


End file.
